


Test

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Series: Recognition AU [4]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 04:37:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4773812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick's order was simple.</p>
<p>"Hit me."</p>
<p>But Damian wanted to do anything but.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Test

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt, for 1000 followers. 
> 
> This is Dick testing Damian (and later Tim)’s abilities, so he can create a sort of ‘talon training regimen’ for them. See what he does and does not need to teach them. There was a bit of an implication that if Damian didn’t comply, Tim was going to be harmed. Dick finds an amusement in hurting Damian, in all forms, which is why he picked Damian first for this session. He likes teasing and mocking him, knowing Damian will refuse to hurt him if he can. Dick and William know their names due to Wayne family research, not from Dick’s memories.

After Dick’s visit, Tim stopped keeping track of time. Stopped caring or counting the hours and minutes. Focused on himself, on Damian, on the scraps of food they were given, and making them last.

Beyond the silent, masked Talon who brought them food, they received no other guests after Dick’s interview. Not even Dick himself. He’d asked, of course. The one who came with the tray of food. But silent wasn’t just an arbitrary adjective, and the Talon never answered, never even acknowledged the question being asked in the first place.

So when the door to the dungeons swung open with a clang, and the unmasked man who walked in had no food – Tim estimated it to have been two or so weeks since their last real visitor. It didn’t matter, though. Not to him. It could have been two hours since Dick’s appearance or two years, he would have moved to hide Damian all the same.

And it had to be a sign of the younger’s mental state, that he allowed Tim to manhandle him like he did. Allowed Tim to lift him from where he’d been meditating on the floor, corral him into the corner of the bed and sit protectively in front of him.

The Talon must have found it funny, judging by his amused huff, his hip cocked to the side. The smirk across his pale, veiny face.

“Need something?” Tim spat, tensing his muscles as he reached back, slid his hand around until he felt Damian’s foot. “Because, I don’t know if you noticed, but we were kind of _busy_.”

The Talon snorted again, shoving a key into the cell’s lock and twisting it. He then yanked the door open and backed up a step. “You’ve been summoned.”

“By?”

“The invitation is not to be refused.” The Talon continued, as if Tim hadn’t spoken. “Either you walk there, or I drag you by your _hair_.”

Tim pursed his lips, but complied, sliding off the edge of the bed, and reaching his hand out for Damian to take. Damian quietly did, and stayed tight to Tim’s side, though sent a harsh glare to the Talon who followed behind them.

“Do we get to know where we’re going?” Damian asked icily.

“Hm…” The Talon seemed to sway behind them, like he was just strolling through a park. “No.”

And captivity wasn’t doing Damian any favors. That’s why Tim had thought ahead, that’s why Tim wasn’t going to let Damian leave that cell until he was holding his hand. Because the word was barely out of their captive’s mouth before Damian tried to spin around, already had a fist balled and aiming for the Talon’s chin.

Tim went with Damian’s movement, using the impending momentum to yank the boy back, collapse him into his chest and wrap both arms around him. Damian still kicked, though snarled like the feral animal Tim once thought he was.

“Don’t _mock_ me, you freak.” Damian hissed, slumping his weight after a moment, letting Tim drag him backwards, with only half-hearted attempts at lashing out. “I could kill you with _one hand_.”

The Talon didn’t seem phased. Let out another light chuckle as he passed them, turning towards a thick door on their left. He dared to reach out, ruffle Damian’s hair before grabbing the door. “You’re cute.”

The incident was instantly forgotten as the Talon pulled the heavy door out towards them, revealing a large, empty room beyond it.

Well, empty. Save for one thing.

One person.

Dick stood in the center of the room, in a Talon uniform similar to what the one who brought them here was wearing. He wasn’t wearing the mask either, that was clipped to his belt. His arms were crossed, and he looked bored, almost annoyed by his wait. But that face melted into a smile as he saw both Tim and Damian peek inside.

And if there was any thought of an attempt at running, it was squashed immediately, as the masked Talon came up behind Tim, who was still holding Damian, pushing them both into the room.

It was only when that heavy door slammed shut once more that the Talon released Tim’s shoulders, stood off to the side.

“Which one?” He asked, voice echoing through the room. Tim could see the ruins of a gallery above them, and wondered if this was some sort of old showroom, or unused courtroom.

Dick cocked his head to the side, eyes darting between Tim and Damian. After a moment, he straightened, uncrossed his arms. “The little one.”

“Fair enough.” The masked Talon responded, uninterested. Suddenly, Tim felt a hand on his shoulder again, saw another one latch onto Damian’s.

“No, wait, what-”

They were ripped apart without another word. Damian was released instantly, though, while Tim was dragged to the side, held tight as they stood against the wall. Damian remained where he was left, face blank as Dick slowly approached him.

Tim felt his heart pounding, and didn’t know why. What was happening? What was going on? What…what was Dick going to _do_ to Damian?

When Dick reached the smallest of them, he bent at his waist, getting down into Damian’s face. Damian didn’t move, didn’t emote. Just watched, just tensed his muscles and pursed his lips.

As Dick and Damian stared off, Tim was running through every move he’d ever been taught, every bargain he thought he could make.

_Don’t hurt him, don’t hurt him, please, don’t_ hurt _him!_

But all Dick did was whisper, “Hit me.”

The command took Tim off guard, and if it caught Damian the same, he didn’t let it show. Not beyond a scrunch of his eyebrows. “…What?”

“I said-” Dick suddenly leaned back, raised his clawed glove, swung it down at the child’s head. _“-hit me!_ ”

And finally, Damian reacted. Dodged the punch and dropped to his back, sweeping Dick’s legs out from underneath him with his own ankles before scooting backwards. _“No!”_

Dick collapsed in a heap, head bouncing off the floor. Tim heard Damian’s panicked gasp, watched him inch forward, just a little, before jumping to his feet and running around to Dick’s other side, putting as much distance between them as he could.

“…Grayson?”

Dick slowly raised himself to his elbows, slowly began laughing.

“Not bad, kid.”

Any fear that was on Damian’s face evaporated instantly. His mouth clanged shut and a fury burned in his eyes. “Of course not. I was taught by the _best_.”

Tim knew that was a reference to Dick, as he was before.

The reference seemed to be missed by Dick himself, though, as he pushed himself to his feet, rotated his shoulder. “Batman only _thinks_ he’s the best. But regardless,” He pushed his fist into his hand, and the crack of his knuckles echoed. “Show me what he taught you.”

Damian hesitated, and those emotions dripped back onto his face. But it wasn’t fear this time. No, it was love. It was complete and utter heartache.

Because what Batman taught Damian, what raw skill Dick took and honed – was deadly. Even with the right morals, the right mindset, could still _be_ deadly.

And Dick was asking for it. He was asking for Damian to beat him as hard as he would any criminal. Hit him as hard as he used to hurt any person. Attack him as ruthlessly as he used to murder.

And if there was anyone in the world Damian wouldn’t – _couldn’t_ – hurt, no matter what, it was Dick Grayson.

No matter what form Dick Grayson was in.

Tim pulled against the other Talon’s hold. Damian backed up a step.

“No.”

And Dick – god, Dick _grinned_. Vicious and evil and mischievous. He took a step forward, and Tim found a panicked litany running through his head.

_He’s dead, he’s dead. Damian’s dead, oh_ god _, Damian’s_ gone _._

“I don’t think you heard me, kid.” He practically purred, sauntering forward. Damian chanced another step back, then another, and another. His eyes darted to the door, but the hopelessness settled in his eyes. “I didn’t _ask_. It wasn’t a _request_ , it was an _order_.”

Damian glanced up at him through his lashes, lips pursed in an attempt at stoicism, but their quivering betrayed him. “And I said, no.”

“Let me go,” Tim whispered, yanking against the Talon’s hand. “Let me go, I’ll show him _exactly_ what Batman taught _me_.”

Before he could blink, Tim was spun around, thrown back against the cold wall. A hand at his throat, tightening as he was lifted off the ground.

“My grandson did not ask for you.” The Talon said, though sounded bored. Tim coughed, tried to grab at his hand. “Now shut up, and watch the show.”

“Relax, William.” Dick drawled, glancing over his shoulder. “And you’ll get your turn soon enough, Timothy.”

Tim froze in his struggling, and even Damian, who wasn’t taking his eyes off the one looming over him, seemed surprised.

Dick said he didn’t remember them at all. So how could he know their names?

“But for now, quiet.” Dick kept that smile on his face, keeping it almost flirty as he threw Tim a wink. He didn’t wait for any response from Tim before turning back to Damian. “Now, are you going to make me ask you again?”

Damian kept his mouth shut.

Dick exhaled, sounding almost fond as he leaned down, bracketed his hand on the wall, right next to Damian’s face. “Show me.” He hissed. “What Batman, taught you.”

Damian stared at him, eyes torn between fury and pain. He glanced over at Tim, just once, but Tim couldn’t read the emotion before his eyes shot back to the man above him.

“…You think you’re so scary.” Damian suddenly hummed. Dick blinked, cocked his head to the side. “But you’re not. You’re nothing but a clone. A _copy_.” The child instantly had a dark smirk of his own. “A _spare_.”

Dick’s smile vanished, the frown deep as he removed his hand from the wall, stood back to his full height. “Nice tactic.” He droned. “Won’t work.”

“Yes it will. It did last time.” Damian pushed, stepping forward. “You’re _weak_ , Talon. Far weaker than the man you’re _pretending_ to be.”

“I told you.” Dick went with the movement, backing up himself, body tense, waiting for Damian’s first strike. “I am _not_ Grayson.”

“No, you’re not. As I told you before, Richard Grayson was strong. Smart. Skilled. Able to defeat the enemy with just a word or two. Able to protect those he loved most with more strength than the entire Justice League combined. But you?” Damian snorted, shrugged, as he continued to approach, as Dick continued to back up. They were nearing the center of the room now, and Tim noticed the Talon holding him – William – loosening his hold, more interested in the impending battle than the one who might disrupt it. “You’re just a coward.”

“I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to _distract_ me.” Dick shot back. “But you won’t.”

“I’m not _distracting_ ,” Damian clarified, sounding almost innocent as he stopped walking forward. Dick stopped his movements, too. “I’m just using the skills _my Batman_ taught me.”

Because Dick honed those deadly hands, Tim knew. But he also gave Damian new skills. He taught him how to annoy, how to distract, how to be _Robin_.

And much like elephants, Robins never forget. Not what they’re taught, nor who taught it to them.

(Not unless you’ve been brainwashed, apparently.)

“…Hit me.” Dick whispered, doubling over, fists ready, looking prepared to run. “Hit me as hard as _your Batman_ would want you to.”

“I believe I already have.” Damian countered arrogantly. “But if you mean _physically_ hit you? Well. I don’t think you’re quite _worthy_ of that honor.” Damian suddenly glanced over at Tim. “What do you think, Drake?”

And being dismissed by this child seemed to be that last straw, seemed to break Dick’s cool demeanor. He let out a feral growl, launched himself at Damian. Tim let out a shout, more of a sound than any sort of warning, but the attack appeared to be Damian’s wanted response, as he turned lazily back towards Dick.

Dick reached out, tried to grab Damian by his throat. But, in a mockery of his earlier move, Damian ducked under the grab. Dick’s speed carried him forward, though, and he went tumbling over Damian’s back. But before he could hit the ground, Damian lashed out, grabbed his ankle and whirled Dick around in a circle. He released him after an almost full circuit, aiming him straight at the Talon holding Tim.

Dick hit William with full force, and the two fell into a bouncing heap, smacking off the wall and ground. Tim was almost taken into the pile too, but William’s hand slipped from his throat at the last second, and he fell to the floor in a crouch, barely catching himself on his hands.

Dick and William lay there for a moment, and Tim wondered if maybe, Damian had gone against himself, if maybe he’d actually hurt Dick _willingly_. But then Dick groaned, rolled off William and onto his stomach, lifting himself onto his elbows. When he turned to look at Damian, there was blood pouring from a scrape on his pale cheek. However, if Damian’s slightly widening eyes were any indication, the injury wasn’t on purpose.

But Dick suddenly grinned, the blood running over his teeth as William shifted behind him. “Nice.”

Silence fell across the room for a moment. Before Damian squared his shoulders, stomped across the room and took Tim’s hand.

“I showed you what I was taught. That’s what you wanted.” Damian explained defiantly. “Now take my brother and I back to our cell.”

Damian didn’t wait for a response, squeezing Tim’s hand and tugging him back towards the heavy door. Tim hoped they accepted the demand, because just looking at the boy, he could tell. The boy was spent. Emotionally, mentally. If Dick came at him again, if Dick ordered him to harm him, _again_ …Tim didn’t know if Damian could do that. If he could fight back, if he could defend himself.

Tim didn’t know if he would even _try_.

And he didn’t want to see how Dick would deal with that kind of insubordination. He didn’t want to see Damian so defeated that he’d let himself get _beaten_.

They were halfway across the floor, when Tim heard Dick mumble a quiet, “Very well. William, if you’d mind.” A grunt as someone stood, then, “And make it quick.”

“Of course.” William responded, sounding almost amused. “We have much to discuss now, after all.”

Tim didn’t like the sound of that, and pulled Damian to his side, wrapped his arm tightly around his shoulders.

“Are you okay?” Tim whispered as they reached the door. Damian pressed into his embrace, let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes.

“…No.”

Yeah, Tim didn’t think so.

He glanced behind them as William approached, stepped back as the Talon went for the door. He kept his eyes on Dick, though, who was taking his time in pushing himself off the floor. When he finally did, though, he let that grin take over his face again, the dark, dangerous one, as he ran the back of his hand across his cheek, smearing the blood across his skin.

“See you next time, Timmy.”

The door clanked open, and Tim couldn’t drag Damian from that room fast enough.

**Author's Note:**

> >
> 
> [Other Recognition AU stories](http://fishfingersandjellybabies.tumblr.com/tagged/recognition+au)   
> 


End file.
